


Scales

by Selador



Series: dragon au [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dragon Titus, Human Cor, M/M, Rough Sex, scales - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 10:16:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15168509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selador/pseuds/Selador
Summary: There's a dragon in Insomnia. The way Cor discovers this is non-traditional.





	Scales

**Author's Note:**

> smokingcaramels asked: That's a great name for the AU. Well I'm curious on where Cor fits into the dragon!verse you have going on but I wasn't sure if you had existing plans. If not, how about some hurt/comfort where Titus & Nyx are used to being the ones going out on the front lines getting banged up and having Cor there to make things better when they come home. On the flipside they're also used to Cor going out & coming back with maybe a scratch or 2. Buuuut its flipped this time. Is that too specific? *flailing*
> 
> The first part of this series was super cute. This fic is less cute.

Cor’s lifted up and thrown onto the bed, which is so novel an experience for him that he’s too surprised to be indignant. Just as well–Titus’ hands are undoing his belt and roughly tugging Cor’s pants down to throw them off, before climbing in between them. There’s a ripping sound, but Titus bears his weight down on Cor, so he doesn’t think of it again.

And Titus kisses him hard, hand weaving into Cor’s short hair and gripping. Not much crosses Cor’s thoughts besides that kiss, for a while. He jolts back a bit when Titus pulls back, tracing calloused fingers up Cor’s hips, abs, dragging his shirt up, and nipping the path cleared while doing so. Cor groans, leaning his head back, and closing his eyes.

The cloth of his shirt bunching up under his chin spurs Cor into movement. He shifts until he can pull his shirt off, which is a feat considering Titus is mouthing at his abs. He likes to use his teeth, occasionally dragging across the hard muscle, making Cor’s breath hitch.

His shirt off and somewhere on the floor, Cor lays back while Titus moves up from his belly to his neck. He can’t help but feel open and exposed, and Titus is still in his clothes.

Cor’s a little surprised that it makes him harder.

But, the clothes are going to get in the way, eventually. If they keep at this.

He rubs his hands down Titus’ sides, trying to mimic the sensual drag he did earlier, and feeling awkward doing it. Cor gets to the hem of his shirt though, and begins to pull it back up.

Titus makes a noise, shifting to pull Cor’s arms away and up. Then leaves his hands there, pinning Cor’s wrists down, and bearing his full weight onto Cor.

He kisses Cor again, before he can really think about how  _vulnerable_  he’s allowing himself to be with this man, who–well, he does trust Titus, he’s certainly not the Captain of the Kingsglaive for  _nothing_. But every warrior’s instinct in him is screaming that he shouldn’t let himself be pinned down so.

Titus pulls away, and Cor finds himself bereft of his kiss, his weight, and his warms, as he stands up and pulls off his pants, and advances.

He’s still got his shirt on, which is a little odd–self-conscious of his scars, maybe? It’s not like Cor doesn’t have his own generous amount of scars, though.

Titus slides between Cor’s legs, and impatiently rolls his hips against his.

“You got lube?” Cor asks, voice rough.

Titus hums, leaning over, and grabbing a tube and a condom from the top drawer of his nightstand.

Cor sees the brand, briefly, before Titus pushes his knees further apart. He’s a little surprised–he didn’t think Titus was  _fancy_.

A cold, slick finger enters him, without warning, and Cor closes his eyes and sighs. Titus’ fingers work him roughly, and his other hand holds down his hip which is the only warning he gets before his mouth closes around his dick.

“Fuck!” Cor swears, one hand going to Titus’ head and the other gripping the sheets. He writhes, finding little room to maneuver.

Titus adds a second finger, and a third, and he sucks Cor’s dick hard. Cor can  _feel_  the back of his throat, and he gets out, “If you don’t want me coming down your throat–” before Titus thrusts particularly hard into Cor with his fingers, and Cor comes down Titus’ throat anyway.

Cor shudders through it, hot mouth and fingers still firmly around and in him, feeling boneless and relaxed afterwards.

Titus pulls off his dick with a  _pop_ , and slides his fingers out, and moves up to mount Cor. And Cor’s sensitive, and still cooling down from his orgasm, but he gets out, “Condom!” before Titus can push in.

( _Shit_ , they forgot to use a condom for oral sex, Cor’s negative, but they’re going to have to talk about that–)

Titus pauses. “Right,” and Cor wonders how a man his age could forget a condom. But he shifts off, grabs the condom, and puts it on after a moment of fumbling with it. It’s a little odd. Nothing about Titus putting on a condom is smooth or practiced.

“There,” Titus says, sliding on top of, and into, Cor.

Cor moans at the sensation of Titus sheathed within him, the stretch only mild after the prep and orgasm. Titus kisses him again, hard and quick, and asks, “How does it feel?”

“Good,” Cor says, trying and failing for anything more descriptive. “Good.”

“You ready, then?”

 _For what_ , is on the tip of Cor’s tongue, Titus has been pretty rough this entire time, and there’s no reason for why that would change during the actual fucking. “Get on with it,” Cor says, “or are you all talk?”

Titus grins, all challenge. He pulls out, then shoves in with enough force that Cor moves up the bed.

He puts a hand up against the wall to keep himself from hitting it through Titus’ punishing pace. Titus’ arm comes around to grip into Cor’s hair again, pulling it hard, sending shots of pleasurable pain through him.

The treatment is rough and hard, but Cor feels himself growing hard again.

Titus chuckles in his ear, so Cor bites his shoulder in retaliation. He hooks his legs around and digs his heels into his back, which changes the angle just so that Titus hits deeper and sweeter each time.

Titus is still wearing his shirt, and is the only article of clothing he still has on. Which… is still a little weird, but what’s weirder is how hard and cool his skin is on his lower back.

And are those… scales?

It’s hard to hold onto the thought, with Titus fucking him so thoroughly, pleasure reverberating through his entire body. There’s some pain certainly, but where would Cor be if he couldn’t take a little pain? He’ll enjoy the bruises he’s going to have tomorrow, enough so he’ll hold off on using a potion as long as he can.

The scales on Titus’ lower back are weird enough that it distracts Cor, and he almost opens his mouth to ask about them, but…

Shit, he’d really rather just focus on getting his brains fucked out. The scales thing can wait until later.

 _Much_  later.


End file.
